


Some Kind of Magic

by OwlOfDeath



Series: Beyond Sand and Sea [3]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, Boys Kissing, Character Development, Fantasy, Finger Sucking, Hand & Finger Kink, M/M, Mages, Magic, Mild Sexual Content, Nipple Play, Original Character(s), Pirates, Shyness, Teacher-Student Relationship, Teasing, Vulpera/Human Relationship, vulpera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:34:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24787780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlOfDeath/pseuds/OwlOfDeath
Summary: Jona is finally learning something, but being taught magic and actually pulling it off turns out to be two totally different things, especially  when there's a certain bored and brown eyed distraction demanding his attention.
Relationships: Hashin Clearwell/Jona
Series: Beyond Sand and Sea [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1792156
Comments: 5
Kudos: 2





	Some Kind of Magic

**Author's Note:**

> Continuation of [Mousetrap](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24779302).

"Almost, but you got the diacritics mixed up there," he said as he tapped the paper, "and that suffix suggests the past which I don't think is a very good idea. You should find another inflection that suits the purpose better." Hashin was standing behind the chair, looming over him as he checked his progress, his other hand resting on the table. He had been pacing the room ever since he returned from his meeting with the captain, smoking restlessly, but now it seemed like he was finally able to settle down a bit, switching from the role of an advisor to that of a teacher. As he traced the lettering with his fingertip his dark locks brushed against Jona's head, almost tickling his face when he leaned forward. 

"The part here is a decent starting point for what we're doing. See this? Begin there, and keep your focus on it in your mind like we've been practicing." He crushed the stub of his cigarette into the ashtray, his chest pressing down on Jona as he reached over him. "Remember what I told you about the ebb and flow, that the trick is to grasp it at the right moment? That's the hard part, at first, but eventually it'll come naturally to you. Like a physical action." 

Hashin looked down at Jona where he was sitting, as if checking if he was paying attention, his face largely in shadow except for the light of the lantern reflecting in his eyes. The perpetual gloom of the cabin made it hard to believe it was still mid-afternoon. When the weather was clear they often spent their time outside on deck, away from the stuffy room, and as long as the esteemed Navigator Hashin Clearwell was by his side the sailors couldn't touch him, only throw dirty looks his way. But today it was raining.

"Once you find that feeling it's like viewing the world from a different angle, or like a layer of it has been peeled away. The object of your focus takes on another meaning. It's hard to explain but believe me you'll know it when it happens. Magic is all about—"

"Balance," Jona fit in smoothly. 

"So you have been paying attention after all," he chuckled. "Go on then."

"That there's a counter to every action, right? If I lift something up, there will be a force trying to pull it down at the same time, and the trick is to find the sweet spot."

"Heh, _sweet spot_ , well worded."

Jona returned his attention to the paper in front of him, quickly correcting the faults Hashin had pointed out earlier. They had been at it for months now, and he was making progress. The truth was that he loved it; the reading, the lessons, the endless linguistic studies. Even the grammar felt exciting, because every step got him closer to something more tangible than just a concept of 'magic'. Something he could actually _do_.

Hashin had told him once that magic was like baking, you had to understand the fundamentals of why the dough behaved like it did, why it would rise and how to make it happen, and then you could start breaking the rules and experiment. If you didn't you'd just end up with a useless goop of flour and water. Of course then he had promptly and casually proceeded to gloss over most of the basics, skipping the parts that didn't specifically refer to things he was trying to teach and so successfully ignoring his own advice. Jona had never bothered to ask the man what he really knew about baking bread, but he did know a lot about magic. All he could do was to take what was offered to him, and he greedily soaked in all the knowledge thrown his way. At least now he was his student in earnest. Hashin had even gotten a second chair for the cabin. Granted it was more like a glorified stool compared to the carved throne he used, but the size and height did fit Jona better.

During the day he would study, or practice, or be swept up by Hashin's games when the mage was feeling bored of the other two. And at night he thought about Kirin. As much as he tried not to let them the thoughts would still invade, haunt and plague his mind, and some nights he could think of nothing else.

He and Kirin had looked nothing alike. Friends of their family would even jokingly ask which dune they'd found him on, that little black bundle of smiles. He had been almost taller than Jona even though he was younger, darker and stronger built. His eyes so bright yellow you'd almost expect them to glow in the dark, unlike his own dark amber. Even their personalities were at opposite ends of the scales, but maybe that's why they got along so well, complemented each other so smoothly. 

Everyone loved Kirin, with his cheeky grin and friendly, extroverted charm, but Jona most of all. It had been that way ever since they were little, from the moment he set his eyes on his baby brother. And now he was gone forever. It still kept him up all night sometimes, silently crying, even if he knew it was useless. Just as he was useless, living on this ship, trapped and without the means to help anyone. Not even himself. 

Without warning Hashin snatched the paper from under his nose, casually tossing it on top of the rest of the notes and piles of books. "I think that's more than enough work for one day, don't you?" he sighed, placing a hand on Jona's shoulder as he leaned it and nuzzled the top of his head, a finger tracing the line of his neck and shoulder.

"Wait, now? No, I don't think I can yet..."

"Of course now, there's no better time than the present." He embraced him from behind and then reached down, his fingertips brushing past Jona's nipples through the fabric before pinching one a little too hard. It stiffened at the touch, blood rushing to all the wrong places. "No he says," Hashin mused, drawing circles around the other nipple, "are you sure that's how you _really_ feel?" 

Betrayed by his own body Jona blushed fiercely, embarrassed by his own lack of self control. He wished intently that Hashin couldn't tell how it gave him goose bumps all over, how it made him shudder with anticipation, but he just couldn't hide it. Maybe it was his own inexperience, or the effect Hashin had on him, but he made it all too hard to deny by being an open book whenever Hashin got too close.

"There it is," he whispered, "that's the face I was hoping you'd show me."

"Wait, stop... _Please_..." Why did he have to be so easy? That damn mage knew how to press all his buttons. 

"It's so cute when you try to say no to me, being all bashful like that."

There was just something about his scent that he couldn't ward himself from, beneath the smell of wine and cigarettes. It was on his clothes, his sheets, all over the cabin, and it had a way of making him totally lose his head. On this ship where everything stank of brine and mold Hashin somehow always smelled so good. Like a fragrant flower growing on a dung heap, only without the innocence.

"All work and no play? Don't be like that Mouse; it's boring." His nose nudged the base of his ear, teeth nipping at the thin skin. "I'll be _real_ gentle..." Words husky, half buried and muffled by his fur.

"We can't do _that_! I'm still sore _there_... from last night."

"Hmm? I'll only use my fingers then... How about that?" Jona squirmed a little in his grip, but Hashin seemed unaffected. The smile in the corner of his vision was suggestive and irresistible.

"Wait! Wait..." Hashin ignored him and wiggled his ring- and middle finger in front of Jona's face.

"One... or two?" It made a wet, squelching sound as he slipped his slender fingers into his own mouth right next to his ear, another fingertip still teasing his nipple through the shirt. “Let me find _your_ sweet spot.”

He really was sore, it wasn't an excuse. He should be standing his ground, gain some measure of self-respect. He should say _no_. But... 

Jona swallowed thickly. 

" _Two_."

\- - -

_A few days later..._

"Now focus, will you."

Jona sighed, his attention returning to the pen lying on the table, just within reach. He picked up the chant in his mind, the words he had learned by heart from pure, endless repetition, doing the same exercise over and over. No, not exercise, but attempts. Many failed attempts. It was still raining outside, the patter of drops against the window almost soothing. Almost.

"Do you have it?"

"Stop talking if you want me to focus," he snapped, then immediately regretted it, closing his eyes for a moment. "I'm sorry." But Hashin just chuckled.

They had chosen the pen for this because it was light and had a distinct yet simple shape. Hashin had said that would help, but so far it really hadn't made any difference. In the months since they started his lessons the seasons had changed twice, coming up on thrice, yet in spite of all he had learned he hadn't made any tangible progress in the field of actual magic. He had read about it, written about it, talked and thought about it, but he was yet to actually _do_ it. And not for lack of trying, these past weeks he had spent some time every day watching a pen while Hashin watched him. Or, more accurately, did something else while keeping a bored eye on his pupil and lover straining himself. But the mage didn't seem worried, just slightly impatient. 

"So is it true, we're laying anchor soon?"

"Mmm, what? Yes, it's a pirate town run by goblins."

"And... You'll be on shore leave."

"Of course, I'm dying to get off this rotten boat." Hashin sighed, uncrossing his legs to shift in his seat as he regarded Jona over the edge of the book he was reading, his cigarette bobbing as he spoke. Jona would have liked nothing more than to join him, for all the same reasons. He hadn't set foot on land since he set foot on the ship. But since he was indentured to the vessel, and thus considered a permanent fixture on it, they never let him leave. 

Still he heard all the tall tales from the sailors as they returned. He knew Hashin went to brothels as much as the rest of them, though he avoided the cheaper, seafront establishments. He knew their relationship was nothing sacred or exclusive. But he didn't know if the knowledge made him feel relieved or jealous, maybe both. Hashin himself never talked about it, but nor did he try to hide or deny it. 

"And when I get back we'll have to do something about those claws of yours, if you're going to keep shredding my sheets like that..." Jona opened his mouth to retort, feeling a flush of heat in his cheeks, but then realized he had nothing to say and closed it again, sulkily returning his attention to the inanimate pen. 

He was just about to give up, hand raised to reach for the pen to pick it up, when he noticed Hashin tilting his head in the periphery of his vision. Just a tiny movement, but it caught his attention, his whole focus shifting, and as his mind wandered for nothing more than an instant he suddenly felt the change. 

If Hashin had moved because he sensed it too, or if the change had happened because his mind was distracted into a more susceptible state he couldn't tell, it all happened so synchronously. But he could feel it, really feel it, the solidity of the pen's existence surrounded at first by empty space. Then the table beneath and the draw of it, the open expanse above, and the pen in between; its shape and mass, and as his eyes regained focus once more he realized it was no longer touching the table at all. Hand slightly outstretched as if frozen in a movement and the pen floating above the table, his heart skipping a beat in his chest for that instant, his mind scrambling to not lose the moment.

"Well shit, look at you," Hashin said, brow quirked as he watched the pen fall clattering back onto the polished wood. "I'm glad we're finally past that, now we can start having some real fun."

Jona was still trying to catch his breath, feeling not so much winded as overwhelmed. Once he grasped that sensation it had felt so unreal, and yet almost physical, like picking an object up for the first time only to realize it felt different from what you had expected. Heavier, or lighter, but not totally unfamiliar.

"I did it?" he murmured incredulously, staring at his trembling hand. "I did magic?"


End file.
